Under Pressure
by LazyLothCat
Summary: Ezra finds himself inside of an Imperial-run infirmary. Real world AU.
1. Chapter 1

"No…" Ezra groaned under his breath. He tried to inhale, but his chest felt heavy, as if a large weight were crushing it. He let out a strangled gasp as he struggled to breathe, trying desperately to suck in as much air as he could. Unfortunately, each time his chest expanded a stabbing pain ripped through his torso causing his muscles to constrict. Despite his best efforts, all he could manage was a raspy sounding wheeze. His eyes snapped open as something sharp pierced his skin and a cold sensation raced up his arm. The momentary lapse into consciousness allowed him to vaguely make out his surroundings, though everything was still very much a blur. Voices were all around him, inaudible as if he were underwater. Was he underwater? He couldn't tell, but the pressure in his lungs indicated that it was a very real possibility. The icy liquid coursing through his blood stream…was it just hypothermia setting in?

Ezra's vision slowly began to come into focus as bright, fluorescent lights streaked by overhead. So he wasn't drowning in water, at least that much he could surmise. No, the coppery taste in his mouth told a different story. Before he had a chance to consider that, a strange apparatus came down over his face. He reached up with his arm in a feeble attempt to push the offending object away before something, or someone, firmly grasped his wrist and forced it back down to his side. It didn't take much to subdue the young boy. His limbs were already weak from the lack of oxygen and his entire body exhausted from the effort it took to sustain the little amount of breathing that he was able to do.

A slight surge of panic rose up through his chest at the idea of being restrained, but this thought was quickly replaced by a strange, almost sweet smelling odor permeating his nostrils. Darkness began to creep along the edge of his vision almost immediately after that. As the world slipped out of focus once again, he was barely cognizant of the fact that the fight he thought he had lost was only just beginning.

 **Author's Note: So this is my very first SWR fic. It's more of a prologue of sorts, since I haven't decided which direction I want to go with it yet. Still debating on whether I want to make it a real world AU or stick to the sci-fi genre. Let me know your thoughts.**


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of jet-engines howled in the distance as a foreboding plume of black smoke curled up into the atmosphere. On any other day, Sabine would have been sitting atop the highest perch she could find in the decimated city, marveling at the crimson sunset as it painted the sky in deep reds and pinks. Unfortunately, today she was more preoccupied with the large block of concrete crushing her leg.

"Zeb!" she managed to croak in between coughing fits. Smoke and debris hung low in the air as the effects of the recent explosion continued to resonate throughout the small area that was once a city block, but now looked more like a warzone.

Who was she kidding, this whole area wasn't _like_ a warzone it _was_ a warzone. This was the second bombing in less than a week. The Empire was really upping its game, trying to flush out any pockets of resistance it could find.

Sabine shifted her weight and winced. "Well this isn't going to work," she sighed and began to look around, gauging her options. If she could find something in relative proximity that she could use as a pry bar, she just might be able to free herself from her current situation.

Setting her jaw firmly, she focused in on what looked to be a metal beam lying amid the rubble directly to her right. It looked small enough to lift and it wasn't completely buried. The only problem was getting to it. She inhaled deeply through her nose, mentally prepping herself to make her first attempt. Twisting her torso ever so slightly, she began to stretch out her arm, her fingertips just barely grasping the jagged metal. Before she could wrap her fingers around it, a tearing pain surged up her leg. It felt like every nerve ending was on fire.

Sabine let out a defeated cry and pulled herself back, squeezing her eyes shut and allowing the pain to recede.

"Giving up already?" a gruff voice asked from the shadows.

"Zeb!?" Sabine instantly perked up. "Are you okay?"

Zeb assessed the young girl's condition, "Better than you I suppose," he said, clicking his tongue. "Need a hand?" Without waiting for a response, Zeb hoisted the slab of concrete off of her leg and tossed it aside with a loud grunt. He then reached under her arms and as gently as he could, lifted her into a standing position.

Sabine awkwardly leaned into him as she favored her injured leg.

"Think it's broken?" he asked, definite concern lacing his voice.

She gingerly tried to apply pressure to it, but thought better of it when a sharp jolt sliced up her calf. "I don't think so. Where's Ezra?"

Zeb grew solemnly quiet at this inquiry. "He didn't make it. I'm sorry…" The older man was never any good with these emotional sort of things. In truth, he would rather let loose in a fit of anger than have to deal with feelings of grief or sadness. Right now though, Sabine stared down at the charred ground dejectedly reminding him that he couldn't lose it just yet. He had to be there for her.

"He pushed me out of the way," Zeb's voice cracked a bit as he recalled his last moments with the young boy, "Part of the building was coming down…and he pushed me out of the way. By the time the ringing in my ears stopped, he was gone. Buried under all that," Zeb indicated with a shrug of his shoulder towards the debris.

Sabine nodded, holding back a few tears as they stung the corners of her eyes. Casualties were an expected part of war.

"Come on," Zeb broke in, "We've got to get back to base and get you patched up."

The teenage girl glanced over her shoulder at the destruction that lay behind her. Her eyes scanned the area one last time, hoping to see any signs of life. She knew it was false hope, but any kind of hope was welcome at this point.

 **Author's Note: Going with the real world AU on this one. Let's see how I do. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed so far.**


	3. Chapter 3

The sun had nearly set when an old, battered Jeep came rumbling down the road, its driver jostling about as it hit random potholes and went over small bits of debris.

"This used to be a main road," Hera said to no one in particular as she geared down and slowed to a crawl, scanning what was left of the demolished buildings in front of her. "Now it's just a wasteland," she commented as she shifted into park, allowing the engine to run as she hopped out, grabbing her pack from the backseat.

As an afterthought, she leaned back inside the Jeep and lifted the built-in CB radio from its holster. "Spectre 2 to Ghost, I've arrived at Ground Zero. Continuing search for survivors." Hera's gaze swept the area ruefully. There were little to no signs of life in this part of the city. It had been abandoned long ago during the first wave of bombings from the Empire, but every now and then a few scavengers would find their way through. As of late, there were rumors of a small rebel cell operating within its borders, prompting subsequent bombings.

While it wasn't her duty, and certainly against Imperial regulation to do so, Hera would spend what little personal time she had searching the ruins for any civilian or otherwise who haphazardly managed to get caught up in the airstrikes.

"Keep the home fires burning Chop," she said, patting the hood of the rusty orange vehicle. The engine sputtered in response before returning to its regular idle. It was true, the Jeep had seen better days, but it had proved to be a loyal companion thus far. It was probably the most reliable thing in Hera's life right now.

Like most things during this time, it had to be salvaged and Hera was no stranger to repairing lost causes. It was always in her nature to help people and the best way she figured she could do that was by becoming a medic. Unfortunately, the war hit closer to him and before she could completely finish her training, she was thrust into the role of head combat surgeon.

Necessity was the driving factor behind that decision. The unit she had been assigned to recently lost their top surgeon. He was the unfortunate recipient of a large piece of shrapnel that had blown off a downed helicopter. Hera grimaced at the thought as she scrabbled to the top of a small mound of busted concrete to get a better vantage point.

She didn't expect to and was hoping that she wouldn't find anyone this time around. As she took one last look over the remains of the city, her eyes rested on a small, oddly painted helmet.

"Definitely not standard issue," she mused as she slid down the pile of rubble and onto the ground. Her boots crunched over busted glass that had once been windows as she made her way to the odd finding. Picking up the helmet, she marveled at the intricate design that it had been decorated with. It was rare to find anything remotely artistic, as the Empire tended to suppress freedom of expression. She was about to tuck the helmet into her pack and call it a day when a faint, wheezing sound caught her attention.

She cocked her head to the side to get a better idea of where the noise was coming from, addressing it with a tentative, "Hello?"

Ezra lay half-buried under the remains of a nearby building, pinned down by a support beam that had been ripped in half by the force of the explosion. Nothing registered for the teenager except the crushing pain in his chest and the vibration of approaching footsteps.

"Hang on!" Hera called as she raced toward him. He was young, but in this day and age it was not uncommon to see children on the battlefield. "Stay with me, okay? I'm going to help you." She hoped she could make good on that promise. Her pack fell to the ground as she rifled through it, searching for something to stabilize the boy's neck. It wasn't a proper med-kit by any stretch of the imagination, but it generally served its purpose. Hera pulled out a small towel and quickly rolled it up, carefully sliding it around Ezra's neck.

Something had to be done about that wheezing, but first she had to get him out. Looking around, Hera noticed a block of concrete that seemed small enough for her to move. With some effort, she was able to drag it close enough to the boy so that she might be able to use it to prop up the heavy wooden beam that currently had him trapped. "Okay kid, get ready."

She didn't know why she was trying to have a conversation with the unresponsive youth, but somehow it calmed her nerves for what she was about to do. If this plan didn't work, she could risk crushing him even further. Forcing that thought out of her head, she braced herself against the wooden beam and gritted her teeth. "Here goes," she said as she pushed with all of her might, digging her heels into the ground. Her shoulders burned from the strain, but when she felt the beam give slightly she continued to press her entire weight into it, inching it up and over the concrete block.

With a loud grunt her muscles finally gave out as the beam dropped down over the block, causing fine particles of dust to be displaced into the air. She began to cough and nearly tumbled over Ezra trying to regain her footing, but was happy to see that her plan had worked. Using the back of her arm, she wiped the sweat from her brow and knelt down next to him. Sliding her hands under his armpits and locking her elbows to better stabilize his head, she slowly dragged him out from under the wreckage.

Once he was clear of the rubble, Hera quickly began to assess the damage. It was hard to tell where the major injuries might be since he was covered in soot from the explosion and wore a tattered orange flight-suit that covered most of his body. She decided to go with standard procedure and check his vitals first. Slipping her gloves off, she felt around under the towel, pressing her fingers into the side of his neck. Fortunately his pulse was strong, but a little too fast for her liking. Along with the raspy sound coming from his chest and the slight blue tinge to his lips, she could tell that he was having considerable trouble breathing. She gently placed her ear against his chest and wasn't surprised when she couldn't hear the tell-tale expansion of air.

After her cursory inspection didn't turn up any heavy external bleeding, she went to work gathering the necessary supplies from her pack. "You're not going to like what I'm about to do, but you'll thank me later," she said as she cut open the front of his suit to expose a bruised and slightly swollen chest. Hera winced at the sight and held up a large syringe. Quickly swabbing the area with an alcohol pad, she held her breath and plunged the needle just above one of his ribs.

A slight hissing sound escaped Ezra's lips as Hera slowly drew the plunger back. "That's it," she smiled as she pulled the air from his chest cavity, allowing the lung she believed to be collapsed to re-inflate. Temporarily. There was still a long ways to go before he was in the safe zone again. "Don't move," she advised as she stabilized the wound she had just opened. As soon as she finished, she grabbed her gear and the brightly painted helmet she had picked up earlier and hurried back to the Jeep.

"Alright Chopper, we're picking up a friend, so be on your best behavior," she said as she approached the vehicle, tossing her supplies in the back. As she put the car in gear, she picked up the radio. "Spectre 2 to Ghost, I'm bringing in a Code 1."

The radio crackled to life, "Copy that Spectre 2. We'll prep the OR."

Hera wouldn't know the extent of Ezra's injuries until she could get a better look at him back at the infirmary. She hoped it was nothing too serious. Their infirmary was small and ill-equipped to handle anything major. The thought that she might not be able to save him weighed heavily on her mind as she cautiously loaded him into the back of the Jeep and secured him.

"I'm going to do everything I can for you kid, so don't die on me," Hera chided, as she covered him with a ratty old blanket that she kept in the Jeep. It wasn't much, but it should keep him warm until they arrived at their destination.

The sun was just touching the horizon as the small vehicle raced down the empty road headed for the nearest medical center within 50 miles. Hera stared blankly ahead, her mind preoccupied with her next task and the oft quoted words she had heard during her medical training, _do or do not, there is no try_.

 **Author's Note: While a Code 1 can mean many different things depending on what part of the world you're from, I'm using it to mean a priority emergency. OR = Operating Room. Hope you guys are enjoying so far. It's actually quite fun trying to piece this one together and I haven't written anything in a very long time. Had an account on here years ago, but it has since been abandoned. Reviews are always welcome** **And yes, I did make Chopper a Jeep! XD**


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